A17 Requiem for Salvatore Falzone

Requiem Homily for

Salvatore Falzone

Tuesday 28 February 2017

The Episcopal Church of the Holy Cross

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

A Parish of the Diocese of Bethlehem and The Episcopal Church

Readings:

Wisdom 3:1-5,9

But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,

and no torment will ever touch them.

In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died,

and their departure was thought to be a disaster,

and their going from us to be their destruction;

but they are at peace.

For though in the sight of others they were punished,

their hope is full of immortality.

Having been disciplined a little, they will receive great good,

because God tested them and found them worthy of himself.

Those who trust in him will understand truth,

and the faithful will abide with him in love,

because grace and mercy are upon his holy ones,

and he watches over his elect.

Romans 8:14-19,34-35,37-39

All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ-- if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.
I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.
Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

John 14:1-6

Jesus said, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going." Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

The Homily

“Do not let your hearts be troubled..."

I love these comfortable words of Jesus.  There are times when we so need to hear such comfort.  As I sit with this Gospel and think of Sal I think of the time I spent with him Thursday evening.

One who did not know this man could easily have thought that this was the moment of a troubled heart.  I can still hear him calling out “Jesus, help me."  At times his words would change and he would ask me and others with him to “help him."

At first I too missed the significance of these words.  But the more I sat with him that night and the longer I ponder on those moments, the more I am convinced that it was not the moment of a troubled heart but rather a tired body.  Sal was not asking for help of his body.  He was from the depths of his heart asking for the help of one upon whom he knew would not fail him, commending himself to God in faith.  He was asking us who were with him to help him by prayer and intercession, longing with Sal for that moment when Jesus would draw near and call him home.  His heart was full with the knowledge that Jesus is the one who has prepared a place for him, who knew that it was time for Jesus to bring him to the eternal dwelling of which Jesus speaks in the Gospel we have just heard.

This faith in Jesus, this knowledge of the certainty of the Gospel, was Sal's strength and consolation.  Only it wasn't just his, was it?  It will soon be seven years since I first entered into the midst of this parish, and first encountered this man whom today we commend into the arms of a loving and merciful Savior.  In these years, we have observed how his body slowly gave out.  Early in my time it was the rare moment when he was not with us at Mass, even when at times it took increasing effort for him to be present.  Then those moments of his absence began to increase, especially on the coldest of cold days, or on the opposite of those days when the heat was rather extreme both outside and in the Church.

It has now been some time since he could be with us.  We have all missed his presence in this place that was so dear to his heart.  And yet in a very real sense he was never actual absent from us.  He was always very near to us, recalled by our hearts as we offered up prayers as incense to God.

Today we are reminded that our prayers at last have been answered.  Sal believed strongly in the promise of the Gospel and was confident that Jesus would help him in all things and through all things until at last he would see no longer by faith but by sight that Jesus never fails us and never breaks his promises.  When we hear this Gospel, we can hear Jesus speaking not to some distant figure who is a character in a story but rather directly to Sal, whom we have known and loved in our journey together in this life.  Jesus has flung wide the gates of the Kingdom, the doors to that place described in some translations of this passage from John, as the place of God where there are many mansions.  And in that house of God, all those signs of the tired body we knew in recent years are no more.  Sal is no longer a sick, tired and worn out man.  He is alive as he has never been before.

This knowledge does not make this day easy.  Nothing can do that.  But it does make this day bearable.  It is this assurance that life is changed and not ended when death comes to the body that allows us to grieve as ones who have hope.  That assurance is deeply rooted in the awareness that Jesus is what he says he is: “the way, the truth, and the life," “the resurrection," “the Good Shepherd" who holds us and never lets us go.

And it is here that the comfort of Jesus comes alive most vividly.  This was and is still true for Sal, whose mortal remains lie here in anticipation of the Resurrection of the Body.  But this is true also for us.  Jesus is preparing a dwelling place in the House of God for us.  In God's good time, Jesus will call us also to dwell with God forever.  On that day we shall see at last by sight that God indeed has never failed us and we have not believed in Christ and his Gospel in vain.  For on that day we shall stand alongside our brother once more and live to love God and our brothers and sisters, knowing then that nothing shall ever separate us again.

Today once more we catch a glimpse of that day.  Once more we keep Eucharist, sharing the Bread of Heaven and the Cup of Salvation, feasting on Jesus who is the way, the truth, and the life, apart from whom no one shall live in the world to come.  And as you draw near today to receive this Bread for the Journey, pause for a moment, and let Christ open the eyes of your soul.  What you will see, I am quite confident, is that in the mystery of the Eucharist, which Sal so cherished, that even now he is in our midst, praying for us as we pray for him.

Indeed, Sal, our brother, pray for us and help us also, until at last we stand before Jesus in the Kingdom where sin and death are no more.

Father

Timothy

Alleman